Betrayal of kin
by SAINTIXE56
Summary: Rollo betrayed Ragnar with Jarl Borg a lifetime ago. In Frankia, once again the jealous sibling is betraying his rightful king. Again? Really? Or is Ragnar missing the important clue as why there is no betrayal at all? Reviews welcomed.


\- You have betrayed your own kind.

The words thrown like a curse from the dying warrior wounded more deeply than he cared. He was a traitor. Again, only able to betray, to stab in the back like a coward. Unworthy of being loved… unworthy.

\- He is coming, your brother…

Yes Ragnar would come and avenge his men. And once again, like the cur he was, he would run to hide tail between his legs full of self-loathing and pity. Ragnar, his brother. Ragnar, his family… family… wait … not his family.

His family, his men, his country were not Ragnar's family, were not men of Kattegat. His country, this new land shining under this new sun was in the South. A South which knew nothing of his native North. A South which worshiped a different God, a God who had no reason to bestow favours on people who set fire to his temples. The Christian magic worked and worked well. Slowly maybe, just as mysteriously as Odin's own magic. Importantly just as powerful if not more than Odin. He was no more a North Man and the dying man was not 'his' kind.

He was a Nordmanni as the Franks were calling his troops. Not the guttural North Men of the people of England. The inhabitants of Frankia spoke a different language, more like a sing-song. Different, lighter, sunnier. A sun which shone for him, a renegade from Kattegat possibly but it did not matter to the Emperor.

Rather the opposite around; more an abyss was built between the two brothers, happier was the weak king. Charles relied on his son-in- law; relied, trusted in these Nordmanni, the former outcasts, the disgraced outlaws in Frankia were respected allies, worthy friends, trusted companions,

Ragnar, this world is not yours. I do not wish you ill; but go away: you are nothing but a shadow of the past here. Come if you may, the brother you are looking for is not here.

There is nobody of your kind here. You are my brother; but not my family. A gentle smile danced on his lips. His family… his wife and soon this child. This unexpected child, the children he has envied his brother to have when Lagertha hips swelled up. All the children, his brother, his nephew, his friends had again and again while he remained barren and useless. The hope for a child he had lost so many years ago; and this gift, this magical gift of a child… When news of a troop of Vikings had managed to land on his land, he had immediately gathered his own warriors. As they were about all ready to live, the princess had come slowly to wish him good bye. Good luck? Though their relationship was steadily improving, there were so many things still standing between them.

\- Ragnar Lothbrok will be threatening Paris again if you do not stop these men. Do you duty to your emperor, husband.

Rollo had bowed stiffly. The words though pronounced politely were cold.

\- I… I mean… we…we shall wait for you.

He looked at her, not understanding why she would insist on a minor detail of language when he realized her left hand was caressing her belly somewhat gingerly as if it was… . His eyes pierced her but she was not afraid; shy maybe but there was nothing sinister or ironical behind her words. And it had hit him.

\- We shall wait for your return. Your safe return. So much depends on you.

The two hands were covering her belly like a gentle protection. Their eyes crossed; blushing Gisla lowered hers, hands still covering her abdomen.

\- …

\- It is early days… but I am sure… I am certain. We shall wait for you. You will return, won't you?

\- … I… I will. I shall return and … and we shall carry on… this conversation. We need … we shall…

It was incoherent, it was wonderful. But they had no time; they must not waste time. Precious time not to be wasted to protect his new people. His new … people including some not yet born. The bishop blessed the warriors; soldiers as they were called now. He stopped his horse before racing out of the walls of the castle. Turning for a last glance, a last word with her.

\- I shall take care of my brother; do not worry about this. Take care of you… two.

The couple exchanged a gentle smile. A private smile full of tomorrows; full of the laughter of children to come.

His family… His own kind. The lone bear had at long last his own family and he was going to protect it. Brother… maybe… Brother, you shall learn soon enough I will not call you brother if you put my own family in danger.

The dying Viking's head rolled in the mud. He had seen in the red mist of his own death, Rollo expressions moving from shame to thoughtfulness ending by a pacified smile. People justly afraid do not smile; Ragnar's anger had not succeeded to enter fear thus reason into Rollo. Far from it. Something had happened which the king of Kattegat had not foreseen.

Rollo was not a traitor; Rollo belonged to a different kin…


End file.
